Cookies For Santa
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: "What... do you mean you never believed in Santa Claus?" Merlin asks, blinking at Arthur. "I never believed in Santa Claus," Arthur repeats with a shrug, one arm slung over the couch as he looks over at Merlin, the blase way he manages to say such a thing almost heartbreaking, Merlin thinks.


_Cookies For Santa_

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"What... do you mean you never believed in Santa Claus?" Merlin asks, blinking at Arthur, knees drawn up to his chest, fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, program that is playing on the television forgotten in lieu of the shock Merlin feels at such a revelation, though it is what sparked such an admission from Arthur to begin with.

Because who the hell never believed in Santa Claus?

"I never believed in Santa Claus," Arthur repeats with a shrug, one arm slung over the couch as he looks over at Merlin, the blase way he manages to say such a thing almost heartbreaking, Merlin thinks. "Does Uther seem like the type to encourage me or Morgana in such childish trivialities? Anyway," he shrugs again, eyes flicking from Merlin to the TV and back again, "It's not a big deal, Merlin. It was just one of the parts of childhood I never experienced. I'm a fully functioning adult now, though; not believing in Santa Claus didn't have any adverse effects on me whatesoever. It's not a big deal." He repeats, eyes back on the TV screen, dropping the subject as though it really isn't that big of a deal.

Merlin nods in response, takes a long sip of his tea, tries to keep focused on the show that they're watching and not the fact that Arthur never believed in Santa.

So his boyfriend never believed in Santa Claus—so what? It isn't a big deal, like he said. So Merlin should forget about it, because despite his flaws, Merlin still loves Arthur, and he is a perfectly functioning member of society and a decent adult who only _occasionally_ fucks shit up.

So it's really not a big deal at all.

*.*.*.*.*

Except it is.

Because Merlin has been thinking on it, and if Arthur never believed in Santa, he probably never believed in the Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny or Jack Frost or the Sand Man or elves or goblins or trolls or fairies or Peter Pan or anything, really, and he probably missed out on quite a good bit of fun and childhood magic, and when Merlin thinks about it for a moment or two, it really _does_ rather explain Arthur and Morgana, doesn't it?

Merlin loves Arthur, sure, but, well... everyone deserves to have that childhood magic in their life for at least a little while.

Even Pendragon children.

And as the man who happens to be in love with one such Pendragon, surely it is Merlin's duty to try to provide Arthur with some of the magic he missed out on as a child?

So maybe it wasn't quite a big deal to Arthur before, but, maybe it is a bit of a big deal now. As far as Merlin is concerned, anyway.

*.*.*.*.*

The first thing Merlin decides to do, is to have a marathon of Christmas movies, just him and Arthur and some hot chocolate and popcorn and a nice night under a warm blanket on the couch with a stack of Christmas movies. Arthur isn't exactly lacking in the holiday cheer—quite the opposite, actually, as he enjoys trimming the tree and listening to Christmas music as much as Merlin does—but Merlin figures enough of them will have Santa Claus in them that Arthur will have no choice but to focus on that, and perhaps believe, just for the sake of a few short movies, that Santa could very well be real.

Just that moment of believing—or suspended disbelief, at least—would be enough, Merlin thinks.

However, he forgets to take into account that he will be spending the night under a blanket on a couch with _Arthur,_ of all people, and the fact that there is a talking reindeer on screen does little to stop Arthur from kissing Merlin in the middle of the first movie, which in turn does little to stop Merlin from kissing him back, pressing him against the couch and getting lost in the slow, careful kisses until the hot chocolate is cooled and the movie has been over for sometime.

In the back of his mind, he wants to put in another movie and stick to the plan, but then Arthur is pulling himself away from Merlin and the couch and taking Merlin's fingers gently, tugging him towards the bedroom, and Santa Claus is actually the furthest thing from his mind in the moment.

*.*.*.*.*

His next plan is really quite simple, actually—well, his first plan had been simple as well, but Arthur's kisses had been better than Merlin's plan—childish and simple.

Their friends, Gwen and Lance, happen to have a daughter who is so very much in love with the Christmas season. She insists on writing numerous letters to Santa Claus every year, just to check in on him, on decorating every inch of their house and tree, and listening to Christmas music all the time and watching holiday movies and going to the mall to _meet_ "Santa Claus," making cookies for him, leaving carrots out for the reindeer—she is as enthusiastic about Christmas as Merlin thinks most children _should_ be.

Of course, Gwen and Lance do seem to grow tired of it, after a while. They are good parents, but Merlin thinks that one can only listen to Jingle Bells so many times before they need a break, so he offers to babysit the little girl one Saturday afternoon in the middle of December, and Lance and Gwen gladly accept his offer, drop her off at his and Arthur's in the early morning and before Arthur knows what is hitting him, he is sitting at their kitchen table with the girl, writing letters to Santa Claus while Merlin makes hot chocolate and cookies.

And Merlin thinks that maybe this is okay, a borrowed child and letter writing to Santa, that this might just be a bit of the fun that Arthur missed out on as a child himself.

When Gwen and Lance come back to pick up their daughter, Arthur is reminded that he needs to send out his letter soon if he wants to get his gift by Christmas.

Arthur smiles in return and tells her not to worry, he's going to make sure the letter gets to its intended recipient as soon as possible. Merlin thinks that the problem, as it is, has been solved and Arthur got that spark of magic and hope after all.

Except as soon as the door closes, Arthur takes his sealed envelope and slides it into the front pocket of the shirt Merlin is wearing. Curious, Merlin slips it out and open as Arthur saunters into the kitchen, and instead of writing a lovely letter to Santa Claus, Arthur has instead written up a list of naughty things that he would like to do to Merlin that night, and, well, any other night, too, actually.

Merlin only thinks that the plan has failed for a fraction of a moment before Arthur is calling him into the kitchen and Merlin remembers the list item that included the words "whipped cream", and suddenly the original plan doesn't actually matter anymore.

*.*.*.*.*

It seems like all of Merlin's plans are foiled in such ways. He has good intentions, sure, but, Arthur always seems to thwart his plans in some way or another—kisses and lists and pinning Merlin down in the snow and making the mall Santa blush when he tells him what he wants for Christmas in whispered tones and looks in Merlin's direction with a lascivious sort of grin...

Honestly, by Christmas Eve, Merlin is seriously considering hiring someone to dress up as Santa and break into their house or _something_, because surely if **he** does it, it will only end in... well, in a fun way, sure, but not the way that he would like for it to.

So when he comes home from getting some last-minute shopping done and finds Arthur in the kitchen making cookies, he stops in his tracks, raises a curious eyebrow at the humming blond at the counter who doesn't seem to notice his presence right away.

When Merlin recognizes the tune as "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town," he watches Arthur for a moment longer in wonder before he the blond about, jumps slightly upon noticing Merlin's presence before breaking into a grin.

"Merlin! Cookies?" He asks, nodding to a plate of cookies on the counter near Merlin before turning back around to what he was doing.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asks curiously, ignoring the pile of chocolate chip cookies that he decides he will dig into in a _minute. _

"Making cookies, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"But... why?" Merlin asks, walking over to where Arthur is busy taking another batch of cookies off a cookie sheet._  
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"That's what people do, right? On Christmas Eve? Make cookies and leave them out for Santa? And milk, too. Thought he'd like a fresh batch, you know."

It takes Merlin a moment to process what Arthur has just said, what he is doing, and when it finally sinks in, he shakes his head, grin on his face as he comes up behind Arthur to kiss his neck, wrap his arms around his waist, settling for that for the moment while Arthur's hands are still full and grasping a hot cookie sheet. Arthur relaxes into his embrace, finishes what he is doing before setting the pan down and turning around in Merlin's embrace, chuckling when Merlin presses forward to kiss him slow and soft and happily.

"I know what you've been doing, you idiot," Arthur mumbles when Merlin pulls back slightly. "With the movies and babysitting and the letters to Santa and cookies and hot chocolate and the mall Santa—I know what you've been doing," he says again, shaking his head with affection in his eyes. "And... I _do_ appreciate it, you know. What you're trying to do for me."

"I just," Merlin shrugs. "I thought—"

"I know what you thought, and... I told you it wasn't a big deal," Arthur interrupts, but his tone is soft and loving, and Merlin thinks he would be an idiot to get mad over something like this anyway. "But... I think I'm glad you didn't listen to me. It's... it's been fun, you know? _Really_ fun," he adds suggestively, leaning down to kiss the crook of Merlin's neck.

"Only _you_ would get frisky after making cookies for _Santa Claus,_" Merlin clucks his tongue, though he does nothing to stop Arthur's ministrations.

"Mhm. Actually, about that," Arthur looks up then, gives Merlin an oddly thoughtful sort of look before continuing, "Do you think Santa'd be too mad if we ate these ourselves instead of leaving them out for him? I think I need to properly express my appreciation for all that you've done for me lately, and, well, we might work up a bit of an appetite."

Merlin can only laugh and let out a low, thoughtful "Hm," in response before Arthur leans forward to steal another slow kiss, and Merlin can only wonder if he will get such a reaction if he tries something similar around Easter.

*.*.*.*.*


End file.
